


a heart-shaped box

by novembersmith



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novembersmith/pseuds/novembersmith
Summary: There's a lot Hak doesn't let himself think about. Or at least, that's the goal.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Letterblade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letterblade/gifts).



> I couldn't resist playing with the dynamics of these three. Hope you enjoy my take on them, and thanks to RT for the beta!

Hak is good at protecting Yona, making her smile, riling her temper, listening, watching, waiting. All those things come easily to him. The one thing he’s struggled with his whole life is compartmentalizing – no matter how many locked chests in his heart he stuffs his darkest, softest, most heated feelings in, they leak out.

She gives him a command and he feels every buried feeling flare up as though it’s been doused with oil – if he is a dark dragon, he’s one that wants, desperately, to bare its belly. Much like any other dragon with their master, he supposes. But this want is nothing new. It feels older than the country, than any legend; it’s always been there. Yearning first only to kiss the delicate tip of her foot, dip his head beneath the weight of her hand – what a pain. But surely he was made for this agony, the irresistible burn of it.

Then as he grows, as she grows, the yearning does too – he refuses to think of it, but still there are flashes of an idea: the press of his lips against her ankle, moving higher, the shocked intake of her breath. He knows her every breath, what every hitch and gasp means, in a palace or a forest, or a ship at sea, he knows her. Don’t think of it.

Darker still: Soo-won’s hand in his, cool and too tense. Soo-won’s head, thumped gracelessly against Hak’s shoulder, his breath gusting out against Hak’s neck. His princess and his friend, his future. Those two, the shining warmth of promise that they were meant to be. He knew his place would at the foot of their bed. Their bed. Don’t even think of it. Don’t dare.

He’d been proud of that future, cherished it. Even if he noticed Soo-won’s cheeks flush pink in moments of weakness; even as Hak held the princess close to his chest, breathed in the scent of her hair, and teased her until her eyes were bright and flashing every chance he got. He knew his place.

“So, when you marry the princess,” he’d said, before the princess’s sixteenth birthday. The palace had been glittering and bustling and full of promise then, with a heavy feeling almost tangible in the air, like a storm about to break. It was the feeling of future rushing upon them, Hak had assumed then, and it had made him restless, reckless. Soo-won’s breath had rushed out hotly against his neck and something dark had curled gleefully and hopefully within Hak's chest, deep in the box of things he didn't normally let himself look at, not directly.

“Don’t,” Soo-won had said, hoarsely, the cheerful silk of his voice ragged. Hak had ignored it, and carried on.

“When you marry the princess, you’ll have to treat her right,” he had teased. Hak is strong, but he's never been strong enough to stop himself, then or now, when it came to those two. “Do you know how to treat a woman, Soo-won?”

Why had he done it then, of all times? But Soo-won had flushed as prettily as Yona when riled, even if there was a glassy fever-sheen in his eyes that almost gave Hak pause.

But he couldn’t help himself. He's never been much for being boxed in. He wonders now, if he'd been less emotional, less selfish - if he'd paid more attention - but he hadn't. 

“I mean, in bed,” he'd said, and waggled his eyebrows. Soo-won, when they were children, might have bitten his shoulder, or yelped in delighted dismay. Soo-won, adult, was cooler, more composed, and only pushed Hak away.

“You know I don’t,” Soo-won said quietly. Soo-won has always been far better at compartmentalizing than Hak; he’s known this a long time. It’s what makes us work, he'd figured what feels like a lifetime ago. It's what makes the three of them so good. Hak their strong arm, their warmth at the foot of the bed, Yona their glowing heart, the sweet joy and center of their small universe, and Soo-won steering them, finding their way. He always had. Soo-won, Hak thought, and still, agonizingly, almost, deep inside where he can't help but think it - Soo-wan can find a way to almost anything.

“I do know,” Hak had said then, unknowing, and tucked Soo-won back in under his arm, ignoring the stiffness of his armful; Soo-won was embarrassed, of course, and there had, perhaps, a slight heat in Hak’s own cheeks, but who cared? Not him, not then, not now. “I’ll teach you, young lord, don’t worry.”

“You’ve been with women?” Soo-won had asked suddenly, and then shook his head abruptly, gold hair flying. “Ah, nevermind. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Of course it’s your business,” Hak had said, puzzled, because surely Soo-won knew better, then admitted, “No, I’m as untouched as you.” He didn’t let himself think directly on what he might be waiting for. It wasn't for lack of options. “But I _do_ know what to do. I’ve asked around. Watched.” Soo-won isn’t the only one who can steal about the town, and Hak had justified his sidling into brothels and bugging madams for this – this moment. This is one of the few things he knew Soo-won wouldn’t think to ask or learn, and that Yona would never realize she didn’t know. So it was his place, his right, his privilege to do it for them.

He wouldn't let himself think further on it, let himself wonder where he might be, when Soo-won finally takes his mouth to Yona, on their wedding night. He still can’t help the flashes of heat, the glimpses of imagined images, when he’s falling asleep. He’s never had the self-control to prevent that much slipping out.

“So, want to hear? You know how to use your tongue to talk, but there’s more you can do for her than that,” he'd teased, waiting for Soo-won to flush and pout and protest. He felt for the first time a strange chill when Soo-won’s cheeks grew pale instead, his face a mask.

Soo-won had stared at his mouth. Almost as if in a daze, he lifted his hand and cupped Hak’s face. His own face was still very blank, but his eyes held something Hak still doesn’t recognize. Hak then hadn't know any better, had only gone very still, his heart straining at the seams of his ribs. A thumb brushed his mouth, soft, and almost without thought his lips parted, his breath coming out damp, and on instinct he'd wanted to lick, to touch that skin with his tongue, even though he knew, knows, it’s not for him. He’d never dared hope, not aloud, not for real. Not when Yona and Soo-won’s happiness had been his goal. He didn't, he doesn’t get to ask for more.

“I have to go,” Soo-won had said distantly, still staring, eyes still dark. “There are things I must do, before tonight.”

“Of course,” Hak had said woozily, and felt the brush of Soo-won’s touch as his lips moved. He remembers feeling light-headed, buoyant. The air had felt heavy with promise; he'd thought he'd understood what was being promised. Even now, he hates the memory of it, the way it still catches jagged in his heart, the way Soo-won looked at him.

“You’re so cruel,” Soo-won had whispered, and then before Hak could blink, or ask, or wonder, he’d disappeared in a whirl of silk. Weird, Hak had thought happily, bemused, and gone on his way merrily enough - he too, had things to do before the party that night. Yona will be so happy, with Soo-won there, he thought cheerfully. That's all that matters.

He remembers that moment, that conversation, so often later; he remembers that even then, with Hak’s heart in his hand, Soo-won had known what he was going to do to their king, to their princess, to him. _There are things I must do_.

Soo-won had always been much better at compartmentalizing, Hak thinks, distantly, and locks down his heart tighter, harder, more viciously than ever before, and gathers his shattered princess, their broken future, in his arms, and ignores the rattle of his heart in his chest.

It’s time he learned the same.


End file.
